Underhill by Harper Fox

Author:Harper Fox
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: halloween, paranormal, cornwall, haunted house, gay romance, ghost story, mm romance, tyack and frayne
Publisher: Harper Fox

Chapter Six

“Zeke, get out of here. Take the car and drive back to wherever you can get a signal. Call Jenny Spargo. She’s off duty, but if you tell her Lee’s in trouble at the Underhill house near Gotheglos, she’ll know who to send.”

“I’m not leaving you.”

“For God’s sake. Why not?”

Zeke looked up from his inspection of the concrete-sealed join at the base of the wall. His glimmer of Halloween mischief had vanished. He was dressed in as much of a party costume as his character allowed—jeans and a discreetly patterned shirt—but suddenly Gideon saw him in priestly black. “Perhaps a dark presence has passed through this room,” he said. “It must be something to do with the Nancarrows. They died right here.”

“Whatever passed through here took Lee with it.”

“We can’t know that.”

Gideon banged the flat of his hands off the wall. “I know. And I’m not bloody having it. Go on!”

“What good could Sergeant Spargo do?”

“She can send me a battering ram. Or the fire brigade, or a demolition squad, or whatever it takes to get through this.”

“Gideon, listen to yourself. There’s nothing behind this wall but wasteland and a graveyard.”

“Then how do you explain a thread from Lee’s sweater being caught where it is? Please don’t try to rationalise this, like you did when they found that gold necklace inside a lump of coal.”

“I won’t, although the evidence for that is shaky to say the least. I don’t deny that something bad, something inexplicable, has happened here.” He pushed upright to look Gideon in the eye. “Which is why I’m not about to leave you alone with it. You’re not equipped to cope with that kind of spiritual evil.”

“Great. Thank you. I appreciate your saintly companionship. I need help, though, Zeke. What are you going to do?”

Zeke folded his arms grimly. “I’m going to pray.”

No good for Gideon to yell at him in frustration, shake him, try to knock him down. For a start, Zeke could handle him. And secondly, he knew from experience that his brother’s prayers were anything but a peaceful communion with his God. When Zeke climbed into the pulpit of his newly built chapel, he expected his congregation, the spirits of the place, and probably God himself to fall into line and get busy. “Right,” Gideon said in resignation. “Worth a crack, I suppose.”

“What about you? What are you going to do?”

“I’m going to do what I do best. I’m gonna kick down that wall.”

“That’s ridiculous.”

“Pray for me, then.”

He squared up to the wall. Zeke was right, of course. But Gideon had learned over time that, where Lee was concerned, appearances could be wildly deceiving. Even though he’d banged his fists off the concrete in front of him, if he made a big enough leap of faith—not Zeke’s kind but his own—he might be able to blast the stubborn flat reality to glittering dust. “On my way, sweetheart,” he whispered, because that was part of it, part of the magic, believing against all the evidence of sense and sanity that Lee could hear.

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